Cult Following: The Wrath of Cain
by LadyEpic101
Summary: Nineteen years have passed since Death's demise at the hands of War. His son, Cain, sets out on a quest to destroy the remaining Nephilim and avenge his father. His journey will take him from Hell to Heaven and back again, crossing paths with those who would use the half-breed for their own gain. Along the way, he will discover a dark secret. Sequel to Cult Followin
1. The Journey Begins

The air whipped against Cain's skin as he and Despair pelted across the valley floor. The half-breed leaned forward, urging the horse to move faster. His mind wandered back to the mask tied on his belt. A piece of his father's soul, trapped in it for eternity, or at least until the mask broke. A high-pitched growl alerted him to the predators intending to make a meal out of him. He craned his neck to see the creatures his mother called 'hellcats' gaining on him.

Now was the perfect time to test out Retribution.

Despair whinnied and sunk into the ground; Cain had already leapt off of the ghostly equine and landed a few yards away, clutching Retribution in each hand. One of the hellcats pounced at him. When the predator was only a foot away, the intended prey delivered an uppercut. The blade of Retribution sang through the air and cleaved the beast's skull in two.

"Woah," Cain whispered in awe. He stared at his weapon for only a second, before the rest of the hunting pack descended upon him. He dodged a set of claws, ducking underneath and slashing the attacker's stomach open. Another beast tried to eat his head, but Cain caught the massive fangs on one blade and ripped its throat out with the serrated curve of the other. A series of modified punches was more than enough to dispatch the rest.

The corpses of the creatures decayed rapidly, until they were nothing but dust on the wind. Cain summoned Despair, and was on his way again.

* * *

It took the better part of the day to reach the northern wastelands. Cain dismissed his horse and trotted up the cracked and broken set of stairs to the jagged tower at the top. Cain was somewhat excited; he'd never seen a demon before. And when he walked inside the tower, he wished he never had.

As soon as he was over the threshold, a symbol on the ground started glowing, and the ugliest thing to ever exist appeared over it. Huge bull-like horns framed an ugly, wrinkled, warped face.

"So, you are the half-breed that everyone's so concerned about," Vulgrim giggled. He glided around Cain, not noticing the disgust in his eyes.

"Glad I'm so popular," Cain grunted.

"Oh, but you shouldn't be. There's a price on your head, Son of Death. If one were to bring your corpse before the Charred Council, they would receive all the power and station that your father once held," the demon clacked his claws together.

"The Charred Council?"

"My, you really _are _sheltered. The Charred Council are the beings appointed to maintaining the Balance between worlds, and you-" Vulgrim glided closer "-are a threat to that Balance,"

"So do you intend to turn me over to them?"

"Oh, no, I am but a humble merchant, dear boy. And if I recall correctly, your father made a deal with me shortly before his untimely demise,"

"Yes, that's why I'm here," Cain's voice became eager.

"Yes, yes, of course. But I need you to do something for me first,"

'Of course,' Cain thought, but said nothing.

"Retrieve the head of the Behemoth, who lies beneath the very ground we stand on. The entrance to its lair is behind me.I will reward you greatly for this simple task, half-breed,"

"Very well. I suppose a small detour won't affect my quest all that much."

* * *

'Very well, I said,' Cain mocked himself as he blocked another incoming blow from the hundred-limbed beast.

'I suppose a small detour won't affect my quest all that much, I said,' he dodged to the right, landing against the wall. He stayed attached to the wall for a moment, Retribution stabbing the stone and keeping him up against the effects of gravity. The Behemoth roared, its head-splitting vertically in two. A long, sticky purple tongue shot out of its mouth and wrapped around Cain's stomach.

"Oh, gross."

The half-breed was ripped away from the wall and into the beast's mouth. He braced his hands and feet against the wide spaces between the creatures teeth, straining to keep them open. He was also being covered in viscous, foul-smelling saliva. Cain lifted his feet from digging into the overgrown centipede-dragon-thing's gums and kicked it square in the back of the throat. This caused the beast to drop him twenty fleet onto the floor, where he landed squarely on his feet. His triumph was short-lived, for his actions also caused the beast to regurgitate the contents of its stomach.

All over poor Cain.

"OH GODDAMNIT THAT'S DISGUSTING!"

He wiped the bile from his eyes and launched himself at the creature's neck, grabbing onto a tendril of skin hanging from the Behemoth's neck. In a flash of steel, head was separated from body, and the beast was defeated.

And now Cain was covered in spit, vomit, and blood.

Fortunately there was a deep pool of water surrounding the large dais. Cain pulled the dark green tie from his hair, causing a vomit/blood/spit covered strand to flop into his face. He made a disgusted noise and dove into the pool of water. A cloud of filth rolled off of him as he dove to the very bottom. He had learned long ago that he could hold his breath indefinitely and see clearly underwater. It was uncomfortable, but he could manage.

Something glinted in the corner of his vision. There was a chest half-buried in the silt. He swam over to it and pried it open. A black, spiked pauldron rested inside. Cain grabbed the armor and swam to the surface fast enough to propel himself out of the water and onto dry ground. Surprisingly, the shoulder guard was just his size, and fit snugly. As soon as the armor was secured, Retribution began to glow and change shape, becoming more vicious looking and black in color.

"Neat."

* * *

The head of the Behemoth rolled at Vulgrim's feet, or whatever it was hidden underneath that robe. Cain really didn't want to know.

"Ah, that was much faster than I anticipated, faster, I think, than your father slayed the Leviathan," Vulgrim sounded genuinely impressed.

"Hm. What about that reward, demon?" Cain was starting to feel impatient.

"Ah yes, here," the merchant tossed him a glowing green amulet in the shape of a skull with short, forward pointing horns on its forehead.

"It doesn't help me if you don't tell me what it does," Cain looked from the amulet to the demon.

"Ohoho, but of course. You see, the Nephilim blood coursing through your veins grants you a very unique ability. You possess the ability to take on a far more powerful form, though your human half is... unable to handle the transformation on its own. The amulet will allow you to access the full range of your abilities without destroying your human side,"

"Where did you get this?" He asked as he placed the amulet around his neck, pulling his ponytail out from underneath the chain.

"Your father gave it to me to give to you, as per our agreement,"

"Then why didn't you just give it to me earlier?"

"A word of advice, boy," Vulgrim floated dangerously close to the half-breed's face, "Either get used to being manipulated by the older and wiser, or learn to know when it's happening," he returned to his place over the Serpent Hole. "But now for the other side of the bargain."

Vulgrim waved his hand, causing a portal to appear. A realm of ice and snow quivered in its center.

"This will take you to the realm known as The Veil. What you will find there, I do not know." Vulgrim cocked his head at the young half-breed stepping through the portal. He was far easier to manipulate than his father. A devious smile crossed Vulgrim's features. He wondered what Death had in store for his son.

* * *

**Chapter 1 of the sequel to Cult Following. Tell me what you think plz kthnxby.**


	2. A Race Thought Dead

Snow fell from the skies. It settled in small piles on the stony ground, before being whisked away by a strong gust of wind, turning the feathery flakes into tiny, individual razors.

Cain grabbed his shoulder when hundreds of these razors blew past on a breeze, slicing the pale gray flesh open. It was a shallow wound, but it stung like hell. Even Despair whinnied in pain, trudging slowly through the towering snowdrifts. A sudden flurry of hail pelted the travelers, tossing Cain off of the phantom horse. Despair disappeared into the ground, too tired to carry on. The horse was Cain's only guide, he had let the horse lead him to his destination, something his mother had taught him to do when he was only a child.

'I can't give up.' Cain pulled himself out of the snow. His body heat started to melt some of the snow that stuck on him, only for it to freeze into solid ice. But still he pushed on, trying to continue in the direction Despair had been headed. A blizzard was now raging, tearing its way over the frozen steppes of the Veil. The gray figure fell to his knees, tripping over an obstacle hidden by the blanket of sleet. He stood and marched on. It was getting harder for him to move, ice and snow began to gather at his knees and elbows. He reached a bridge of stone and began to cross over. Halfway across, he was blown off into the abyss by a rush of wind. It was all he could do to hang on to the crumbling edge.

He was so tired. His muscles ached, he was cold and he was miserable. Snow piled on top of his hands. His muscles refused to respond, worn out from fighting the storm. Cain considered just letting go. He could see it now. His fingers slipping off the edge. Him falling, falling into the welcoming maw below. How long would it take him to reach the bottom, if there was one? Would he splatter on the unforgiving stone, or be impaled by concealed spikes?

A fire burned in his chest.

"I will not die here!"

His muscles shook in protest as he pulled himself back up. His right elbow was on top of the snow. Then his left. He pushed himself back onto the bridge. He stood, arms wrapped around his chest, and again he marched on. Whether it was his Nephilim blood that allowed his body to keep moving in the harshest of environments or the unconquerable nature of the human soul that urged him on, none can say. But still, he refused to kneel to the force of nature that threatened to be his undoing.

Again a gust of wind blew Cain off of his feet. This time, it pitched him forward and to the right, away from the dangerous cliff face. He tumbled, head over heel, across the snow, falling into a pit and landing flat on his back. His vision darkened at the edges. He couldn't move. His muscles refused to respond anymore. Air wouldn't flow into his lungs. He couldn't breathe... _He couldn't breathe_...

The last thing he saw before he succumbed to exhaustion was a shadowy form hovering over him.

* * *

A wet nose prodded at the odd little creature that had tumbled down the entrance to its lair. The nose belonged to a chubby, six-legged animal that can only be described as resembling a cross between a plesiosaur and a leopard seal, save three stubby horns on its head. The snow-white fur of the creature was dappled in warm gray spots. A mew escaped its muzzle, and soon it was joined by its three siblings. The bravest reached out its three-toed arm and touched the little gray thing. They all squealed and waddled back against the wall when it stirred and groaned. When it made no other move, they crept closer.

A melodious hum pulled away the pups' attentions. They squeaked happily and waddled away, through a large, natural arch easily ten times their size. Once they were through, a huge, white limb covered in thick fur slipped through the arch, filling it completely. A paw with long, spindly fingers wrapped around the half-breed and picked him up, carrying him into the next chamber.

Massive did not begin to describe the size of the subterranean arena, nor did it describe the beast who held the tiny being in its hands so gently. A crystalline blue eye carefully watched the small creature, before drifting to the white mask at its side. The animal lowered Cain to its furry side, the warmest part right next to its front flipper. Soon the pups joined, curling up next to the mysterious creature who had stumbled into their lair.

* * *

Cain was awake before he opened his eyes. He was warm, and covered by a soft blanket.

He knew what would happen next. The smell of breakfast would fill his room, and his mother would come to wake him up like she always did. They would eat, and they would laugh about their strange dreams. Then they would go for a walk across the plains, the sweet scent of grass filling them both with joy. He might ask his mother to tell him a story, or she might say that she would race him to that tree and back, or they would just walk along in comfortable silence.

He opened his eyes, but not to the scene he expected. A heaviness filled his heart when it was not the warm and smiling face of his mother he saw, but a cold and stony cavern. He tried to move his arm, but found it pinned to his side. A moment of panic set in when he realized that he was not covered by a blanket, but surrounded by several furry white animals many times his size. Again, he tried to wriggle his way out of the predicament, but one of the creatures shifted positions and rested its head on his chest. Cain sighed and resigned himself to waiting for the creatures to either wake up or move so that he could escape.

It was not long before the creatures were awake and milling about. Two started play fighting, nipping at each other's large ears. Another chased a pretend something or other through the cavern, pouncing rather well for an animal with no knees. Cain started backing out of the cave, toward an archway easily ten times his size. With his next step, however, his back met fur instead of empty air. The half-breed hopped away and turned, staring right into huge, clear blue eyes. The eyes stared at him; they looked into his very soul.

The large furry head that the eyes belonged to moved out of his way. Cain was rooted to his spot.

"What are you?" He asked, not expecting a reply.

A chorus of whispers erupted in his head, a hundred voices with one message.

_'Ravaiim,'_

"Ravaiim?" He asked aloud.

_'Yes.'_

Cain furrowed his brow. That name, it sounded almost familiar. Like a half-remembered dream.

_'What is your name, little one?'_

Another pang of sorrow shot through his heart. What was his mother doing right now?

"Cain, and you?" His mother taught him to be polite, especially to people bigger than him.

_'That, is not important. That mask, where did you get it?' _The voices were accusing.

"It was my father's, why?" His fingers twitched over the handles of Retribution.

_'His name?'_

Cain didn't like where this was going.

"Death."

Apparently that was all the incentive the Ravaiim needed to attack. Like a snake, it's head shot towards him. He barely had time to jump out of the way. Unfortunately, one of the baby Ravaiim happened to waddle directly into his path at that moment. He landed on its flipper, causing him to slip and a cry of pain to tear its way out of the pup's chest. The adult Ravaiim attacked again, maw opened to swallow Cain whole. He dodged again, and the creatures teeth met the flesh of its child, puncturing its lungs and dooming it to a slow death.

The enormous beast keened, mourning its child, before returning its attention to Cain.

Who was currently climbing out the same way he fell in.

The weather was thankfully calm when Cain reached the surface. Despair was already pawing at the densely packed snow and neighed when his rider approached. The half-breed pulled himself onto the spectral horse, and they were on their way again, Despair confidently galloping towards a dark cloud in the distance. All was quiet.

Until the Ravaiim burst through the ground behind them.


End file.
